


Deflowering

by M J Holyoke (wholeyolk)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Original Works Exchange 2018, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholeyolk/pseuds/M%20J%20Holyoke
Summary: The Virgin King is to be made virgin-no-longer!





	Deflowering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



He wasn’t conventionally handsome. Yes, that was true. His limbs were short and thick, and the joints of his knees were already swollen and creaking slightly with rheumatism. He had a double chin hidden behind his beard, but no amount of body hair could conceal his potbelly.

Leon didn’t care in the slightest. This wasn’t about good looks, and good looks weren’t the reason why Leon loved him. No, Leon loved him for his good and noble _heart_.

Leon also wanted him. Desperately. (All right, all right, maybe the potbelly was kind of adorable too.) And now, at long, long last, his liege lord—sweetly unsure, almost bashful—was undressed and laid out on the generous expanse of the royal bed, ready to be deflowered.

By him. _By Leon!_

He felt like he’d been waiting for this for an eternity. And now, finally, he was about to claim his reward. He’d sworn a solemn oath that he’d be gentle.

Leon unlaced and removed his tunic. He unhooked his belt. Finally, he dropped his trousers. His cock sprang free, already rampant.

“Um, Leon … Are you, uh, quite certain that …?”

“Lie back and relax, milord. I did promise I’d be gentle, didn’t I? Let me take care of _everything_ ,” Leon said.

No one in the world deserved Leon’s gentleness more.

At forty years of age, His Royal Majesty, King Ferrando was old enough to have sired a dozen or more heirs. However, his widowed sister’s son, born shortly after Ferrando’s brother-in-law was slain on the battlefield, when Ferrando himself had only just achieved his own manhood, was next in line for the throne. That state of affairs was because Ferrando had wished to honor the memory of his brother-in-law. And because he also loved his sister dearly. And because he doted on her boy—so much so that he did not wish to create competition for his future claim.

While the nephew was but a child and too young to rule himself, Ferrando ruled wisely and well in his place, never married … and took neither woman nor man into his bedchamber.

At forty years of age, therefore, His Royal Majesty, King Ferrando was still a virgin. This uncompromising chastity was renowned throughout the land. The Virgin King had intended it that way: A king who bedded none did not leave the door open for false claimants. If everything went according to plan, his sister’s son would have the throne.

It did. In due course, the boy had become a man—a man who would be crowned before the year was out—and Ferrando was taking a man to his bedchamber. A man who happened to be Sir Leon, his most trusted, loyal knight. A man who had saved his life in the Battle of Felding Fields. A big, muscular man … a young, handsome man …

A virile, lusty man who happened to be sliding into bed beside him _right now_.

“Um, Leon … I-I …” Ferrando whispered, eyes wide. He looked scared.

“Hush,” Leon said, reaching out to stroke the pad of one thumb along the curve of Ferrando’s bottom lip.

Then, without further ado, Leon kissed Ferrando.

Ferrando stiffened with surprise and emitted an adorable high-pitched squeak. Leon did not relent, though, raining kisses on Ferrando’s thin upper lip, the left and right corners, the left corner again, and finally the plush lower lip. He sucked that plush lower lip between his teeth and nipped playfully, and he teased it with his tongue. Ferrando moaned and opened his mouth in welcome.

Leon placed a hand on the back of Ferrando’s head and deepened the kiss. He licked the roof of Ferrando’s mouth, the velvety tongue, and soon enough, Ferrando began to hesitantly reciprocate the kiss, mirroring Leon’s techniques with greater and greater skill, until Leon’s cock was weeping with need.

So soon! And just from kissing too. He’d have to catch Ferrando up.

Reluctantly, Leon broke the kiss and began to lick a slow line down Ferrando’s jaw, his throat, the sharp jut of his collarbone, through the hair on his chest. He paused briefly to give attention to the nipples, suckling like a babe on its mother’s teat, first the right one, then the left. Leon noticed that Ferrando’s cock was twitching and beginning to swell. Time to move on? He caressed Ferrando’s sides and his mound of belly. He grasped his hips to steady him as he explored the divot of the navel and the pad of the pubis, coarse hair and fat over bone, and—yes!—the eager jut of the cock.

Leon swallowed him whole in one long, practiced gulp, and Ferrando actually shrieked. He paused for a moment, savoring the stretch of his lips around the shaft, the clean, salt flavor of the skin, the intoxicating scent of arousal. Duly encouraged, Leon bobbed his head up and down, up and down, up and down, until Ferrando’s back was arching and his balls began to blush and tighten. Yes, he was close.

“Um, Leon …!” Ferrando sounded desperate.

“Hush.”

Carefully, Leon removed his mouth from Ferrando’s cock and turned Ferrando onto his side, exposing the starburst pucker of his arsehole. Time for the main event!

“L-Leon …!”

“I said hush.”

He anointed that charming, virginal pucker with warm, melted goose fat and greased himself liberally with the goose fat as well for good measure. Then, Leon wrapped his large frame around Ferrando’s smaller one, his chest to Ferrando’s back, his cock resting between Ferrando’s arsecheeks, ready to deflower the Virgin King once and for all. He paused; he wanted to savor the moment. His liege was about to become his!

“ _Leon_.” The voice that said his name was pleading. _Pleading_. Ferrando was pleading to be taken.

“Your wish is my command, milord,” Leon replied—

—and without any further ado, he began to feed his cock into Ferrando’s hole.

It wasn’t easy going—Ferrando was agonizingly tight, and Leon was not a small man in this particular regard—and he heard Ferrando grunt several times from the discomfort. It took over a minute to seat himself fully, and another minute, frozen, while Ferrando adjusted to the penetration.

But eventually, he did, and soon he was pushing back tentatively into Leon. Leon reciprocated with slow, shallow, experimental thrusts. Gentle, so gentle—he wanted this to be good for him! Ferrando sighed happily in response, a signal of encouragement, and Leon began to accelerate the pace of their lovemaking. Faster, firmer thrusts now, hips undulating smoothly, moist slaps of flesh against flesh, cock scraping swollen prostate gland with every pass.

“Ooohhh, aaahhh …!” Ferrando was writhing, tossing his head back and forth; he’d already lost the capacity for intelligible speech.

Close now, very close, muscles tensing, that sweet ache building at the base of his cock. Leon reached around with one hand to grasp Ferrando’s erection, stroking the shaft in perfect sync with his thrusts. His other hand he placed on Ferrando’s chest, over his heart.

Ferrando covered Leon’s hand on his chest with his own, fingers interlaced, and tilted his head back. He wanted Leon to kiss him again. The realization pierced Leon to the core, and as their lips touched once more, Leon began to come. He didn’t stop kissing Ferrando, though, and he didn’t stop moving, even though he felt like his balls were being wrung dry.

No, he didn’t stop moving, not for an instant, not until Ferrando was coming too, shaking in Leon’s embrace, eyes and mouth open, transported by nigh-unendurable ecstasy. Another realization: Orgasm, as it turned out, made Ferrando beautiful.

 _That_ second realization made Leon come a second time, so hard and long that it actually _hurt_.

“You do take very good care of me, don’t you, Leon?” Ferrando remarked afterwards as they cuddled and caressed and kissed each other.

“I _did_ promise, milord,” Leon replied. A reminder, but an infinitely gentle one.

This was just the beginning. Leon had already decided he still had plenty more deflowering left to do, and fortunately, Ferrando seemed suitably obliging.


End file.
